Dungeon of Doors

~ Vivian, Maple Weald ~

Seeing Maple Weald's changes in person feels vastly different to looking at it via my core. The sappy scent of freshly shaped wood lingers in my nostrils, and the smooth wood beneath my feet feels comfortingly solid. I admire my handiwork as I walk up the ramp from the door to Maple Weald. Glourds hanging from the ceiling and walls keep things illuminated in a cozy orange light.

Voices draw me up the ramp. Small excited chattering of wildkin is interspersed by protests from a deeper voice. When I step into the room I'm taken aback by how much it has changed since I carved it out. The room is full of wildkin. The furniture is set up to make the room look like a bar. Silva is speaking with a wildkin over the bar. His antlers have gotten a bit bigger since I last saw him.

"Are you sure about this, Maple? What if the adventurers-"

"Dad! Stop worrying so much. We've got burrows to run into if they're hostile, and we aren't defenseless."

"I-I know, but I don't want anything bad happening to you."

The wildkin and custodian turn toward me upon hearing my footsteps. Wildkin whisper upon seeing me. Their wide brown eyes consider me with a mixture of awe and fear. Maple grins from ear to ear upon recognizing me. She spreads her paws across the bar-top.

"Grandmother! Welcome!"

I smile at how enthusiastic the wildkin is. She clearly enjoys the space, and I can see a few kegs are actually in use behind the bar. What the wildkin are storing in them I cannot say.

"I see you like the new space."

"Yes, Grandmother! We're ready to trade with those adventurers!"

An especially guilty look on Silva's face catches my eye. He's been ignoring my calls to attention, likely because he's been fussing over the wildkin and their new expansion to the level. I smile at his towering furred figure. For such a big guy he is a softy.

"Don't give me that look, Silva."

"I-I'm sorry, Mother."

"I'm not mad. I understand you have your own life to live."

Silva deflates a little as I give him a gentle pat on the arm. He's too tall for me to reach his head, so this will have to do. He suddenly reaches out and pulls me into a hug. It surprises me for only a moment before I return his gentle embrace.

After a moment we separate. My hood is cast slightly aside, the hug having moved the fabric up far enough for Silva to get a better look at my face. His brown eyes widen as if he's just seen a ghost. I reach up and gently tug down my hood. He didn't notice I'm… just a human, right?

"Ahem. Silva, how would you like to have scheduled meetings? That way things are more manageable."

"Oh! Yes, that sounds good, Mother. Will Pearl be in attendance as well?"

I swallow some nervousness before proceeding. I haven't told either of my custodians about the newcomer, Lord Fredrick, the custodian of death. He may be an independent figure, but I can turn him into mana just like I can creatures born in my dungeon. Maybe because I accidentally resurrected him from death in my domain? Not sure.

"Pearl will be there… as well as a new custodian."

Silva's brows raise at the news.

"We're getting another sibling?"

"No. This custodian is an outsider who is partly indebted to me."

There's a flash of suspicion and distrust in Silva's dark eyes. His brows knit together, and I can tell he wants to say something. He doesn't, instead nodding his head obediently. If it were Pearl I'm sure she would have spoken her mind.

"I see. When will our meetings be, Mother?"

"Every seventh day. I will modify your catalyst to help keep track of the time, but we will be using the human world's days to track time, since they're the same for all dungeons."

"Understood."

I spend a little more time catching up with the wildkin. Silva takes his leave, looking thoughtful as he trudges down to the door. It is probably time to link the door to the antechamber rather than the Wildwood's outskirts.

After some quick goodbyes I leave as well. I don't go out through the door, but via my amulet, returning to the core chambers. The trickle of water through the canals and the sound of the tree branches rustling in the ventilated air puts me at ease.

It is time I finish Woodrin's layout, at least for now.

I enter my true core room using the secret door. Once inside I take a deep breath before placing my hand on my core. My mind leaves my body, a sense of vertigo barely registering in me as I move away from the core chambers. I float past Maple Weald, linking the door there to the antechamber. I keep going—deeper still—until I reach Darkwick.

The shadows here have deepened since I last saw it. The wendigir is still here, roaming the ground and eating anything it can get its hands on. It has healed since the battle with the paladins many moons ago. I need to make this place viable for adventurers, those that have bested every challenge thus far.

I start by adding the door. Set at the rough beginning of the spiral path. It isn't connected to anything just yet.

Next I move to add a few key points along the road.

First a wagon, destroyed and crashed into a rise in the earth. Discarded bones and pieces of battered armor lie strewn about the wreck. Claw marks gouged into the wood matching the size and shape of the wendigir's claws make it a foreboding warning. I place a single lockbox with some copper coins inside, etching a rune in the obelisk to facilitate refills. An appetizer.

Secondly, I add a destroyed hovel. The dilapidated shack lacks a roof and most of its walls, the only piece of furniture present a bed that's fallen apart. It has a threadbare blanket and pillow but no mattress. Beneath the bed I tuck away another lockbox containing silver coinage. The building is situated far enough from the road adventurers might miss it entirely.

Third and finally, I add a well. The stone structure is partly broken, with chunks of the stone fallen away to leave it uneven. There's a rope coiled by the top of the well with a bucket tied to one end of it. At the base of the deep shaft dug beneath the well I add a mixture of mud and stone, kept perpetually wet by some well placed water and sponge stone. Seated atop the muck at the bottom of the well is a single shiny treasure meant to lure the unwary into the slippery well.

That shining treasure is something fairly simple. It is a ring, made of emertal, with a small inscription on the inside of the band. They're not words, but symbols, runes with an intentional effect. Mana seeps into the ring whilst it is worn by anything with a mind. The effect? To hide oneself in shadows. The power of the item won't compete with a wendigir's adept control of stuff like dire shadows, but it will make spotting the wearer in the night nearly impossible. Daylight and bright lights will render the item less effective, of course. The ring of invisibility. Considering its power I decide to make it an item that will not be replaced when looted, much like the mask in Kagami Sea.

The well is kept off the beaten path so not everyone will spot it, much like the old shack.

With the filler locations finished it is time to add an actual reward to the stone henge atop the hill at the center of Darkwick. The path leads adventurers here, and as the final point of their delve in Woodrin they deserve a memorable reward. Something fitting those who overcame treants, roks, and wendigir.

At the center of the stone henge I place a treasure chest. It is made of spiderwick wood, and bound in emertal. Within the chest is a pile of gold and gems, the gemstones cut versions of natural precious items found deep in the earth's crust surrounding my dungeon's cavernous spaces. Things I assume to be rubies and sapphires, as well as diamonds. This horde of treasure should be enough to give anyone who gets this far enough wealth to live comfortably for the rest of their lives.

Of course only putting treasure at the end of the dungeon wouldn't sit right with me. They deserve something just as good if not better than the unique treasure in that well. Better than the mask in Kagami Sea. Something that could change the fate of a whole country if placed into the right hands.

Rather than creating it in the chest I start making a new chamber. Deep beneath the earth I create a new level of the dungeon that will not be accessed by anyone. The 'forge' for this new legendary piece of treasure. I want to create a bow of the forest. Something that speaks to the essence of nature and the wild whilst being a truly intimidating weapon.

I fill this cavernous space with soil and air, coating the walls and ceiling with sky stone. Now it looks like a peaceful serene forest outside the boundaries of the forge. Next I place a seed. This isn't just some run of the mill tree to be, but rather a dense wooden ball of nutrients and mana meant to evolve and grow into something worthy of being called a legendary material.

Of course, the problem is what happens if adventurers reach the last level of my dungeon before the treasure is ready.

That cannot happen. I start by pumping mana into the seed after burying it and feeding it water. The thing sprouts slowly, twisting and erupting painfully slowly. Little tendrils that must be roots twist from beneath it as if reaching out for some unseen goal. A tiny green stalk pokes above the dirt, absorbing the false sunlight happily. My mana is going to run out if I keep trying to grow it this way.

Maybe I should try something else. Some way to grow it faster without the need for a bunch of mana, or some kind of super fertilizer. What I really need is more time…

Time. Why hadn't I thought of that?

Fiction I read back in my home world lingers in my mind, making me hesitate. What kind of disaster could result from me tinkering with time? There isn't any way to predict how it will turn out. I mean, I already accidentally discovered I could resurrect the dead in a way.

The desire for knowledge and to see what happens outweigh my caution. Nothing ever came from waiting around and worrying, so I may as well take the plunge. Though not without some cautionary measures.

First, I line the chamber with a material I've yet to create. This one is my mana condensed into nothing but a desire to contain and obscure. Nothing that happens in this chamber should get outside, or vice versa. My concentration grows sharp like a knife as I form a spherical shield around the chamber. It feels strange, because the more of this shield I make the fuzzier I feel.

When I'm finished I realize my mistake. Somehow, this silvery metallic stuff is actually stopping me from looking inside the chamber. I've never seen something affect my mind's disembodied senses beyond the edge of my domain.

This might take more time than I expected… For now, I carve a hole into the shield and start brainstorming ways to keep an area sealed without cutting off my influence.